


to the moon and back

by Littlethings987



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlethings987/pseuds/Littlethings987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The feeling of fingers drifting over her back, painting a masterpiece, was almost poetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to the moon and back

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something my mind thought of at midnight. I hope you like it!

~

_Première_

~

"You, I must say, are a mystification to me. The one piece of the puzzle I can not decipher."

Moriarty let her words float in the air between them, studying the reaction of the woman before her. And though she had told many lies before, she resigned herself to speak the truth. If only just this once.

"You would be my greatest masterpiece, Joan Watson."

The detective had blinked, a single sign of her surprise, before covering it up. Her facade was emotionless as she turned away to leave to room, but for a slight waver. A crack that appeared the second their eyes met.

But Joan had priorities and staying behind with a mass murderer was not one of them. She still had Sherlock and the Brownstone and a life to repair.

"Goodbye."

Even as she left, Jamie smiled. Because the artist knew that this would not be the last time they would meet. It was simply the first of many.

~

_Dernière_

~

It was quite strange for her to say that, even after all these months, meetings, desires, she was still no closer to understanding the mystery of Joan Watson.

Though they had long since dropped the illusion of casual talking, however the illusion of reasons still remained. Because words had been replaced with touches, and her canvas with heated skin flushed together as their ragged breaths filled the room.

The image of Joan with her raven hair fanned out across a pillow burned, though no longer with hatred or anger. Jamie finally understood her own reasons for staying and waiting patiently until the next time she would soak in the glow of her former rival.

And even as she layed on silken sheets, she was unable to sleep. Listening to the soft and steady breathing beside her was a lullaby that whispered to her in soothing tones.

So, she continued painting. Now her background was warm to the touch and she traced constellations of freckles on Joan's shoulders and down her spine. Writing thoughts that could only be spoken softly in her mind.

Jamie stayed like that until gently, ever so gently, a hand grabbed her wrist. Pulling it to her lips, Joan mumbled words into the smooth back of her hand.

And her heart may have just stopped because it sounded a lot like-

"I love you too."


End file.
